Pearl
by IzabellSageGubler713
Summary: Sequel to Bad Case of Loving You. Spencer ReidXOC Picks up where the last one left off.
1. Chapter 1

I sat in the conference room, alone but too shaken to show any emotion, waiting for Hotch to join me. I called him as soon as I could, hands shaking as I dialed his number and my breath not coming easily to me.

"Hello," Hotch's voice was gravelly, he had to have been sleeping still, it was just after four in the morning but this couldn't wait.

"Hotch -" I stopped not knowing what to say. Schecter knew what number to call, what were the chances he knew where I lived, been in my apartment, bugged my phone, was watching me right now? My breathing became heavy and uncontrollable; I backed into the wall just by my bedroom door and let myself slide down it. With my knees to my chest I rest my forehead on my knees - please no…

"Embreonna? Are you okay?" He asked more alert to my hesitation.

My voice shook in my reply, "No." I didn't bother lifting my head. Hotch had told me to meet him at the office so we could talk about what was wrong.

I had inadvertently woken Spencer up in my state of panic. He hurried out of the bedroom and when he saw me he crouched next to me, wide eyed and asking me what was wrong, what happened? I was too far into the past to answer him. I pointed to our shoes, sitting on the other side of the room next to the front door, my eyes were burning but I fought to keep any tears from falling. Spencer brought our shoes over and by the time we had gotten them on and grabbed the keys I was calm enough to drive.

Our night that was going so perfectly, shot to nothing just like that. I said nothing as I drove, Spencer tried twice to get answers from me about what was going on and where we were going. The latter he'd figure out on his own after a few minutes and the first one I couldn't even answer. I didn't know what was going on, I only knew enough information to know that it wasn't anything good.

Spencer walked into the conference room and set a coffee cup in front of me, "Thank you." I rasped, my mouth and throat had gone dry. I took a sip and sighed in a small relief.

He closed the door and sat in the chair next to me, resting his arms on his knees, his hands inches from touching my legs, "You're welcome." I set my cup next to his and looked him in the eyes for the first time since he'd woken up, "What's wrong?"

My eyes started to burn again and this time I couldn't control it. I could feel the tears fall down my cheeks. I reached out for Spencer, taking his face in my hands; I leaned in and pressed our foreheads together. His eyes closed a second before mine, and he lightly grabbed my wrists. Does he treat you right? I choked on air, trying to get in what I could with short ragged breaths as heavy tears continued to fall.

What was going to happen to us? I wanted to ask Spencer, I wanted him to tell me all the possible outcomes - statistics; I needed statistics, but I hadn't told him anything yet. I hadn't said much actually. I could only imagine how everything looked to him right now. Waking up in the middle of the night to find your girlfriend hysterically crying in the living room, then leaving with her, both still in pajamas just to go back to work and sit with her, holding her while she cried some more.

"Em - " Spencer's voice held nothing but concern as he was cut off by the door opening.

We jumped and pulled away from each other. I wondered if we were a few moments to late as Hotch turned to close the door behind himself. The thought slipped away when Hotch spoke, "What's going on?"

I watched Hotch as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. My best guess was that he rushed out after finding someone to watch Jack and didn't bother with finding his office clothes again. He leaned forward when he sat, ready for me to explain. Spencer and I moved to face the table. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Schecter called me." I admitted. I barely recognized my own voice - so small and scared.

"How is that even possible? He was sentenced to death row and solitary confinement." Spencer spoke quickly and there was an edge to his voice.

I took a deep breath, "I don't know, but he did." I sighed.

"You're absolutely sure it was him?" Hotch asked and pulled his phone out from his pocket. He unlocked it and pressed a number through speed dial.

"Completely positive." I swallowed hard and looked up to Hotch as he stood.

"Stay here, I'll be back." He instructed before he walked back out the door, letting it slowly closed behind him.

The door clicked as it fully shut. Spencer moved quickly and turned to face me, holding my face in his hands, "Em, look at me." When I didn't he moved my head to get me to look at him, "Look at me, please!" He was forcing his voice to stay just below yelling.

I did and saw the panic trapped in his eyes, the past flooding back like a wave from a broken dam. His eyes scanned mine though I didn't know what the would find - felt numb as realization set in. This was happening. This was all happening again.

Spencer licked his lips and took a breath, "What did he say?"

I didn't want to think about what Schecter had said to me, but I knew it would be important to the case - victimology and all. I choked at the thought; I'm a case again. "He asked me a question."

"Okay," He wiped away new fallen tears with his thumbs. I closed my eyes - he couldn't make me look forever. "What did he ask?" His voice was softer now.

I pulled his chair closer to mine, I didn't have the power in me to speak any louder about this. My arms met behind his back and I held onto him, he reciprocated giving me the feeling that he'd never let go. My head on his shoulder, I whispered, "Does he treat you right?"


	2. Chapter 2

The team sat around me. I hadn't moved from the conference room though. One by one they had come up the stairs, Morgan taking them two steps at a time, to sit with me. Garcia stopped in for a moment to give me the biggest hug she could before she left to her lair, muttering to herself about how we were her babies and nobody was going to get to us. I imagine she had reported directly to Hotch and he had already given her orders.

They were already discussing it, talking about the facts from the previous Schecter case and gathering facts of the new one. I answered questions where I could, but otherwise sat quietly looking through the file of the original case. I had never looked through it before; it had never felt necessary.

I recognized a few of the girls. I almost over looked them - they looked so different from what I remembered; smiling, skin glowing, but that was before Schecter. I turned a page in the file and found my cross to bare. My picture was clipped to the corner of a report paper. The other girls weren't difficult to look at, it was refreshing to see a glimpse of their lives and my heart would always hurt for them, but to see my own face in the victim slot...

I pressed my lips to a line and forced down the lump that was forming in my throat as I closed the file and pushed it aside. I leaned back in my seat coughing, my futile attempt in clearing my throat and tried to engage myself in the conversation.

"How did he even escape?!" Morgan was pacing in front of the window, from one side of the room to the other and back again.

"There's cameras all over the prison, he's got to be on them." Emily stated. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears, looking down at her own copy of the file.

"Even if he's not - you promise a certain prisoner the right perks and he'll tell us what we need to know." Rossi sounded like a mob boss as he spoke. He was sitting next to Emily watching Morgan go back and forth, "Don't wear a hole through the floor. I don't think the people down stairs would like that very much."

Morgan stopped, he put his hands on his hips and stared at Rossi. He was fuming, but still recognized Rossi's subtle hint - it won't do any good getting worked up. Morgan closed his eyes and sighed, though I doubt that did any good. He took a moment before he sat down with the rest of us. It wasn't just him - we all felt the tension in the room; an invisible fog slowly forming around us or at the very least I was the only one who noticed it.

I took in a deep breath and stood up, "Uhm, e-excuse me." I muttered before I walked out of the conference room.

I stood in the hall, opposite of the conference room door, my head in my hands and leaning back against the wall. It didn't matter that I was FBI - he had still managed to make me the victim. I had somehow managed to make progress in my life without ever actually leaving my past behind. It was all just an illusion.

The conference room door opened, I lifted my head from my hands and saw Spencer step out. I let my gaze fall to the floor, "Hey..." He said as he closed the door behind him.

"I'm sorry." I could barely hear my own voice.

Spencer stepped forward placing his hands on my upper arms, "What?"

"I'm sorry," I choked, "He's - not going to stop and he knows about you. I can't - nothing can happen to you..." I kept talking, trying to breathe and talk in the process. Even if I was still the victim in all of this, Spencer is the one thing I have gained from it all. He's the reason I find the light in the mornings. He keeps me right.

"Hey," He took a step closer and held my face in his hands, "nothing is going to happen. We're going to find him and we're all going to be okay."

I slipped my arms around his back, resting my head in the bend of his neck, and cried. He rubbed my back in small circles with one hand and held the back of my head the the other. He spoke softly, trying to convince me that everything was going to be okay, but he didn't understand. They may have profiled him and learned his traits and habits, but they didn't know him. Not like I did.

I choked, my throat feeling like sandpaper, "This is my fault."

"No."

"I'm the reason he's back and now you're in danger and it's all my fault."

"No, Embreonna, you listen to me. This is not your fault. Okay?" His words were sharp.

"I've been dreaming about this, you know? Him being back - flashes of everything that had happened. And now - he's back."

"That doesn't make this your fault. Dreams don't work like that - dreams are simply physiological stimulations of our brain and are random and don't have any real meaning. They aren't psychopath calling cards; no matter how haunting they may seem. They mean nothing. There isn't a reason in the entire world that could make any of this your fault."

We stood there a few moments longer, hearing nothing but my crying and the muffled conversation behind the conference room door, until J.J. walked up - carrying another pile of files, "We've officially been invited on the case. Bre, you okay?" She spoke gently as she touched my arm.

I nodded, pulling away from Spencer and wiping my eyes on the cuff of my jacket. I pulled myself together quickly, forcing myself to stop crying and getting my breathing under control. Losing it in front of Spencer was fine, but I couldn't have the whole team thinking I wasn't able to work the case.

"I'm fine." I let my hair down and put it back up in a tight bun, "I'm fine, really."

"Spence, could you take these in for me?" J.J. held the files out for him to take. He hodding taking the files. He gave me a quick glance and a soft smile before he rejoined our team.

J.J. waited for the door to close, "Strauss wants to take you off of the case."

"What?!"

"She thinks that since you were his last known victim - you'll do anything to catch him."

"Shouldn't that be a reason to keep me on the case?"

"Not if you're willing to break protocol." I sighed as she continued, "If that were to happen the whole department would be under investigation and she's not willing to risk that."

"She can't just expect me to sit around and do nothing -"

"Well she does; Hotch is talking to her now about keeping you on the case, but don't expect a miracle."

I locked my jaw and swallowed hard, "So what do I do until I know?" I asked folding my arms in front of me.

"As far as we know, until we get word from Hotch - you're on the case." She opened the door and held it open as she walked in, allowing me to follow her in.

I closed the door behind myself and took my seat next to Spencer, "Alright, let's make papers fly." I grabbed one of the files and spread it out in front of my on the table, "Have we even heard from Nottoway yet?"

"Garcia called them, they're getting together everything they have, including the security footage for the past two weeks, to send over to us." J.J. looked over to me for a brief moment.

"He was in solitary confinement, this would've have taken a long time to pull off - we may need to go back farther." Rossi noted.

J.J. nodded and pulled out her phone, letting whoever was on the other end to, "Go ahead and send all of them over."

I tuned everyone out - if they weren't handing me a file they didn't have my attention, reading through records of the past case and anything we had for the new one became my priority. I had little chance of getting to stay on the case and next to no time to take everything in. If I had a chance of proving I should stay then I needed to prove my worth and show it now.

I scanned over the page in my hand, having to read over some things twice to make sure I had read them correctly. At the moment I was on phone records the prison had faxed over when something in my brain clicked, "Phone records..." I mumbled.

"What?" Spencer asked in a hushed tone as he leaned in towards me, still looking over his papers.

"Phone records," I repeated louder, "why weren't they screening Schecter's phone records? There's only records for the numbers he called, no log number or length of time."

His head snapped in my direction and took the paper from my hands. It took him a whole three seconds to read the information. We didn't have everything the prison had to send us yet and couldn't make any sensible connections.

Spencer reached for the phone in the center of the table and pulled it to him; with it on speaker he pushed one of the speed dial buttons, "Talk quickly." Garcia answered, her keyboard clicking in the background.

"When prisoners make phone calls would the prison keep the information on file?" Spencer asked, catching the attention of the room.

"The recordings you mean?"

"Yeah, they would be somewhere in their computer system, right?"

"Right," She replied with continued keyboard clicking, "unfortunately those files are locked away - encrypted."

"Can you un-encrypt them?" Spencer asked.

I glanced at J.J. and was met with a look of warning; this is the kind of thing I wasn't supposed to do or just let happen on my behalf, "No," I leaned forward, "we'll just have to wait to see if it comes with the rest of the information."

"Are you sure? I can hack in and be out before anyone notices." Garcia questioned.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks, Garcia, we'll get back to you." I picked up the ear piece and placed it back in the receiver hanging up the phone.

I leaned back in my seat and snatched the paper from Spencer's hands, it was my safest option for staying on the case. I pulled the file into my lap and continued to look through it, receiving questionable looks from my team. I glanced back at J.J., she met my gaze smiling softly and nodded her head in approval.

The door opened and Hotch re-entered the room; I stood up instantly, almost shooting my chair back and stayed in place nervously as the door closed. Hotch locked his eyes on mine and nodded briefly before joining us at the table. Somehow he had managed to convince Strauss to let me stay and work the case. I sighed slowly and sat back down.

We continued to look through the files; Spencer would slip the paper out of my hand when he knew I was finished with it and I smiled slightly as he did so. I knew what he was doing, making sure he memorized everything I looked at in an attempt to be able to make the same connections I could, but everything I knew wasn't held to paper and statistics - which would only get us so far in the first place. I needed to see the security tapes.

I sighed and pushed the file I was looking at over to Spencer, "I need security tapes." I stated looking to my team.

Hotch eyed me hesitantly, "They should be here any minute, but I don't know if that's such a good idea."

I swallowed hard, "Why not?"

"Embreonna, he held you captive and -"

"I'm aware of what he did, Hotch."

"Seeing him on the tapes may trigger a negative reaction and bring up emotional trauma. It took a lot of convincing to get Strauss to let you stay on the case in the first place and if it were to end in you having an emotional and psychological breakdown I don't know if I'd be able to protect you from getting kicked off of the team."

"All of my negative reactions have already been triggered. That's why I called you in the first place. Hotch, I need to see those tapes. I'm the only one that will be able to look at his face and tell you what he's thinking. I know you're trying to protect me, but at some point I have to protect myself. Please, let me try."

I heart was racing and I began to question if my words were a choice of bravery or stupidity; of everything they were the truth was the biggest. Theres wasn't a person in this room that could deny it. Even if I were to have some sort of breakdown, it was something I was willing to risk to end this.

Hotch and I had the attention of the room - the others doing their best to not look directly at us. Neither of our gazes weakened as the short seconds passed.

"Hotch," Morgan was the first to speak.

They shared looks between the two of them, not saying a word. Morgan nodded his head once in my direction and Hotch replied with a furrowed brow. Morgan's brow raised as he blinked hard a few times. Hotch sighed before turning back to me.

"Alright, you can review the tapes, but after I want you to report to the department therapist for an evaluation."

My gaze fell to the table as I thought about it. A psych eval; it would go in my file that my ability to do my job was in question, and as much as I hate to admit it, but maybe it should be.

"Okay." My voice was soft, between my nightmares and my episode in the hall - I couldn't think of a reason why I shouldn't have a psych eval.

I sat back in my seat and looked to Spencer, he was chewing his bottom lip and his eyes shifted around the room quickly as he thought of it all. If it were any other day in any other time I would have made a joke about Spencer being in his mind palace, instead I swallowed hard and pulled another file from the pile to look over while I waited for the tapes.

It was only minutes later when Garcia burst through the door, "Everything from the prison just got here. Are you ready to build a new case?"

"Embreonna go a head and review the tapes, make notes of anything you think that will help. We'll build what we can of a new file - when you're finished regroup with us." Hotch instructed.

"It may take days." I said as I stood up. Schecter had been in prison for years now and there was no way I'd be able to get through all that quickly by myself.

"As long as it takes, we'll check on you periodically to see what you've come up with and if we can use it."

I nodded and walked out of the conference room and made my way to view the tapes. Tension began to build in the pit of my stomach and everyone around me sounded like an adult from the Charlie Brown cartoons. I had made a point to argue with Hotch, something I'll probably answer for later, but now - I wasn't sure if I was ready for this.

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**_Thank you to those who reviewed in the last chapter! I hope you continue to review, it is greatly appreciated!_**


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